No. There is a solid connection here and we both know it. Rather than the superficial business of telling each other how nice we are I know I appeal to her deep, meaningful desires and hopes. Especially her hopes. She knows I am a serious boy because I specifically identified what she really is. She really is what she is and although she will not say so to anyone, even her closest friend, indeed even her family, she knows I have pushed that button and by God no man before has ever done that.
She glows, she fiddles, she tosses and turns just thinking about what I said. How could this boy know this she asks herself? Well I will tell you something sunlover, I did not just think it up, pull it out of the air, so to speak. Rather after having studied numerous divorced women I observed how they drift towards this unbelievable state of sorrow. They unravel as the hair beneath their nose becomes bristly. They look with horror at little clumps of hair on the pillow, in the wash basin. They note the creases developing into canyons as their once soft skin turns to leather. Feet no longer dainty, pretty are growing to look like the splayed feet of a pygmy. Some parts continue to grow, like her head and ears while other parts like her ******** shrink.
They begin to doubt everything about themselves. They realize that in spite of romance, love, good times, candy, flowers, marriage. The only reason for their existence was to have children. Too bad cookie, those days have passed. You are old and your husband left you alone for another woman. Now look in the mirror and see if you can spot that trim, tan, sorority girl huh!
In spite of things the girl was calm enough to tell me about her new gold crowns. Flash those beautiful teeth at me Honey and relax.
Don't be nervous were going to enjoy the day providing your stomach settles down. Stop shaking.
I can hardly wait until tomorrow sunlover. I hope it doesn't rain.
